


A Simple Gift

by dragonwrangler



Series: The Magnificent Samurai [2]
Category: Samurai 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwrangler/pseuds/dragonwrangler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shichiroji has a gift for Kambei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laura "Zel" Carboni](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Laura+%22Zel%22+Carboni).



  


 Kambei had believed the dinning area of the Firefly Inn was as full as it could be when he first arrived. And yet room could still be found for the late comers as they settled in for the lavish dinner the staff of the Firefly had prepared.

Decorated for the winter holidays, the room glowed from the multitude of candles that lit the room, and the smell of evergreens and spices and food floating through the air and the comfortable hum of voices and music simply added to the festive spirit of the night.

Several of the long tables had been pushed together and family and friends gossiped and laughed as the heavy platters of beef and chicken, roasted vegetables and sauces, and tureens of soup were passed up and down the tables. Travelers who found themselves at the Inn on this particular night had also been welcomed and had filled the remaining tables scattered along the edge of the room.

Kambei leaned back in his chair and gazed around the room as he sipped on a mug of hot cider. Several families had invited him and his two guests to join them, but Kambei knew his guests would rather watch than interact and had claimed one of the outer tables earlier in the day.

It also gave Kambei the perfect viewpoint to watch Shichiroji move through the room as the man entertained. The young bard was in his element— singing songs and telling tales— his lean body slipping between the crowded tables with an ease that Kambei found fascinating. Shichiroji was currently leading several of the tables in a boisterous rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”, his voice distinct and soothing as it weaved through all the other voices raised in song. From what Kambei could tell, each table was supposed to join in on a certain line. However, some of the tables were having difficulty remembering what line they were supposed to be singing and would make up a line as they went along, with Shichiroji happily adjusting the song to fit the new lyrics. Unfortunately, that was causing the next table to laugh so hard they were unable to sing their own line properly. Kambei could no longer tell if it was still twelve days they sang about; it was clear though that that fact didn’t mattered to the singers anymore.

Letting his eyes reluctantly drift away from Shichiroji’s laughing face as the man tried to regain some control over his current group of singers, Kambei let them settle on the individual sitting next to him. He found his lips twitching into a smile as he watched the god Quetzalcoatl- the White from the North who was currently in his human form of Sedith- nodding his head in time with the slightly off-key music.

As he looked at Sedith, his eyes lingering a moment on the winged serpent tattoo that adorned the sculpted muscles of the god‘s chest and abdomen before rising to look at his face, Kambei found himself wondering how the god had been the one to end up with the Santa hat that Shichiroji had been determined to put on his head tonight.

As if sensing he was being watched, the dark haired god turned and gave Kambei an amused look.

“You certainly seem to be enjoying yourself Sedith,” Kambei commented.

The god laughed quietly. “Yes, I am. I’ve always found parties celebrating virgin births to be quite entertaining.” Sedith leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and Kambei was momentarily distracted by the ring of fine green feathers encircling Sedith’s wrists. The feathers seemed to float around the god’s wrists, shifting about as if caressed by a breeze that Kambei could not feel.

Sedith had surprised quite a few people when he had arrived, a difficult thing to do considering the diverse collection of travelers that passed through the Firefly, though it may have had more to do with the way he was dressed than anything else. One did not often see a man dressed in nothing more that a loincloth and a short cloak of broad green feathers walking barefoot over a thick layer of newly fallen snow.

Realizing Sedith had caught him staring when the god twisted a wrist to make the feathers dance even more, Kambei gave the god a slightly embarrassed look before leaning forward himself, wrapping his hands around his still warm mug.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” the god said suddenly. “I noticed the children referring to you as the Handsome Fellow when they had you cornered earlier.” Sedith smiled and let his eyes wander appreciatively over Kambei’s form before adding, “And though the description certainly fits you, I assume they meant something else by it?”

Kambei chuckled as he glanced down at the white buckskin outfit he was wearing. “The Handsome Fellow is a brave dressed in white who gives the young ones gifts wherever he appears.”

“Ah, trust a child to know that little fact.” Kambei’s other guest said as he reached across to pick up his own drink, his silver hand glittering in the table’s candlelight. “Though I’m sure Shichiroji happily reinforced that little piece of knowledge,” Nuada Airgedlàmb, the former King of the Tuatha de Danann clans added with a shake of his head. “It’s certainly a story that would appeal to his sense of humor.”

“I’m sure he had something to do with it,” Kambei agreed as he glanced up and noticed the man in question was now making his way towards them. “He made sure I had some sweets on me when we came into town.”

Obviously catching the last words spoken, Shichiroji protested as soon as he reached the table. “Hey, I didn’t make you wear that— that’s your own fault.” The blond smiled, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just didn’t want you to disappoint any of the children while you were out dressed like that.”

“Sure Shichiroji,” Nuada said.

Scowling cheerfully at Nuada as he set one foot on the empty chair before him Shichiroji announced, “I also don’t want to disappoint any of our guests of your fine voices tonight my friends.” Shifting the guitar Kambei had given him as a gift earlier in the day so that it rested on the raised leg, Shichiroji added, “Whatever song you feel like singing- ballad, carol, chant…even dirty limericks- I know ‘em all!”

Before Kambei could warn Shichiroji to watch his mouth, Yukino— the new proprietor of the Firefly Inn— smacked the bard on the back of the head as she walked by.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Shichiroji asked as he rubbed his head and looked at her in surprise.

“You have to ask?” the dark haired woman responded with an amazed look on her face. She shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation as she continued on without enlightening the man.

Shichiroji turned to Nuada and gave him a questioning look. “Did I deserve that?”

“Let me put it this way— if she came at you with an iron skillet right now I wouldn’t stop her ‘Roji.” Nuada replied.

Rolling his own eyes at that answer, Shichiroji gave up and carefully set aside his guitar, dropping into the chair his foot had been resting on. The bard looked at Sedith, who had watched the exchange with a smile on his face, and groused, “How come you don’t treat Kambei like he treats me?”

“Because he’s not you, Shichiroji,” Sedith pointed out reasonably.

“Oh, fine,” Shichiroji said good naturedly as he let his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling.

Nuada casually leaned towards Shichiroji and said “If you keep talking you’re just going to bury yourself deeper, ‘Roji. Best to stop while you’ve still got your head above the sand.”

“Fine, fine,” Shichiroji responded with a chuckle then suddenly sat up straight, twisting around slightly to look back at the crowded room. Catching the words being sung that had caught Shichiroji’s attention, and apparently Nuada and Yukino’s before that, Kambei could not help but laugh as the bard leaned forward to bury his face in his hands.

“They really like that song,” Sedith commented brightly as he listened to the new version of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” now being sung at one of the tables.

“I’m just glad the saloon is closed tonight,” was the bard’s muttered response.

“Well, it was your fault for encouraging them,” Nuada said as he handed over his mug to the bard. “You, of all people should know better than to do that.”

“Yes I should,” Shichiroji admitted as he raised his head, smiling ruefully as he combed his long blond hair away from his face with his artificial hand before accepting the drink.

After taking a swig and handing the mug back, Shichiroji asked, “So, will you two be staying here through the week?”

Sedith shook his head. “Yukino was kind enough to offer us both a room but I took up Nuada’s offer to stay at his home,” he said. “I’ve never been to the Otherworld and am looking forward to seeing it. And staying there would still allow me to visit easily enough.”

Nuada nodded as he gave Shichiroji a pointed look. “It’s not as if I live that far away.”

Shichiroji smiled as he rubbed his forehead, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. “You don‘t have to keep reminding me— I‘m hardly likely to forget that fact.” Kambei watched the young man glance out the window before turning to meet his eyes. “And were you going to stay in town tonight, Kambei?” Shichiroji inquired, his blue eyes cautiously hopeful. “Looks like the snow is picking up again, be a long walk home at this time of night.”

“I’m not sure yet,” Kambei answered truthfully.

“You’re welcome to come with us,” Nuada offered.

Kambei caught a barely hidden look of disappointment cross Shichiroji’s face at Nuada‘s words, and a knowing look from Nuada as he answered, “Thank you but no, I will be fine.”

For a moment Shichiroji looked oddly relieved— until a harried looking Yukino suddenly appeared at his shoulder.

“Shichiroji,” she said in a low hiss.

Shichiroji blinked then glanced back at the room, and Kambei listened as another table pick up the altered song and began adding their own slightly rauncy lines to it.

The bard gave Yukino an apologetic look. “I’ll go deal with that,” he said, quickly pushing his chair back and rising to his feet.

The innkeeper nodded gratefully. “Please do, Shichiroji, the children in the other room have started singing it,” she said as the young man grabbed his guitar and headed for the rowdy tables.

“I can make sure he gets home at a reasonable hour if you would prefer, Kambei,” Nuada stated kindly once Shichiroji was out of earshot.

Kambei sighed but shook his head. “That won‘t be nessasary.” He watched Shichiroji a moment and knew he would not be leaving the young man tonight; but not at all certain as to whether he could give Shichiroji what he knew the man wanted from him. "I’ll take care of him tonight.”

“I’m sure you will,” Sedith said. “And it’s about time you did, young man,” the god added in a firm voice.

* * *

  
It was a few more hours before Kambei and Shichiroji left the Firefly. After seeing Nuada and Sedith off they stayed to help Yukino and her staff clean up the dining room, blowing out candles and gathering up the soot covered hurricanes after the tables were cleared. Once they were done with that project, they separated the tables, putting them back where they normally sat, before snuffing the candles in the chandeliers and banking the fire for the night.

Stepping outside they found the snow had stopped and the night sky was almost clear of clouds as they started for the edge of town. It was late enough that they were the only ones on the road, and they simply walked in companionable silence for a time, enjoying the quiet night.

When they reached the edge of town Shichiroji slowed his steps, falling behind slightly. Kambei knew why, if he was to head to his own home this would be where they would part company. But Kambei had promised to see the bard home, and was curious to see what would come of that, and simply continued on without slowing his steps.

He could just make out the relief on Shichiroji’s face out of the corner of his eye as the man hurried to catch up.

A light breeze ruffled their clothing and hair and stirred the misty clouds that formed as they breathed out into the sharp cold air. As they walked side by side, Shichiroji began to sing, slowly and softly, his voice rich and warm.

_Sàmhach an oidhch', naomha an oidhch'_  
_Saoghal 'na chadal; 's a-mach bho ar soills'_  
_Moire is Iòseph an stàball fàs_  
_Faire os cionn an Leinibh le gradh,_  
_Cadal gu nèamhaidh sèimh,_  
_Cadal gu nèamhaidh sèimh._

Kambei recognized the tune though the words were unfamiliar to him and when the last notes faded away Kambei himself began to sing.

_Ehstehn yayau deh tsaun we yisus ahattonnia_  
_O na wateh wado:kwi nonnwa 'ndasqua entai_  
_ehnau sherskwa trivota nonnwa 'ndi yaun rashata_  
_Iesus Ahattonnia, Ahattonnia, Iesus Ahattonnia_

Shichiroji chuckled quietly when Kambei reached the end of the song. “So many songs,” he said as the snow crunched under their feet, “And even these songs will change meaning to become something we won’t be able to recognize one day.”

“True,” Kambei said, having learned first hand how time can change everything.

It was not long before they reached the small house Shichiroji lived in. Inside, they found it was still cold and Kambei headed for the front room to revive the fire to correct that problem.

“Go ahead and clean up, I’ll take care of this,” he said as he moved the fireplace screen aside.

“I can do that,” Shichiroji protested as he set the case holding his guitar beside his lap harp. The harp gave a welcoming chime as the bard brushed a hand over its frame.

Kambei glanced over at Shichiroji. “You had to work tonight. Go clean up, I’ll take my turn after you are done.”

An amused smile crossed the bard‘s lips. “Are you saying I’m a little ripe?”

Kambei smiled back but said nothing. Shichiroji laughed and, shaking his head, headed for the bath.

Occupying himself by lighting the candles in the main room and hallway once he had the fire going, and then letting himself explore the books Shichiroji had collected over the years, he was unaware of the amount of time that had passed until Shichiroji reappeared wearing some loose fitting clothes and rubbing his wet hair dry with a towel.

“Your turn,” the bard announced.

Setting the book he had begun to read aside, Kambei rose to his feet. As he passed Shichiroji, the bard inquired in a soft but strained voice, “Will you be staying long this time?”

“I think so,” Kambei responded, pausing his steps for a moment, waiting to see what Shichiroji‘s response would be.

Shichiroji nodded and glanced at him, the blue eyes dark and slightly uncertain in the candlelight. “Well, if you do, there’s something I’d like to give you though it can certainly wait until another time.”

For a moment they simply looked searchingly at one another, then Kambei reached out, gently holding Shichiroji’s face as he pulled the man into a slow deep kiss. When they parted, Kambei said, “I will stay.”

Shichiroji smiled, his blue eyes calm as Kambei walked away.

By the time Kambei was done cleaning up, he found Shichiroji had apparently tried to pass the time by playing songs on his harp, but had fallen asleep with the harp cradled in his lap. Leaning against the doorframe he studied the man and felt a fond smile crossing his lips when he noticed the red bow perched precariously on top of the bard‘s head.

Kambei had fallen for Shichiroji the first time he had seen him but had refrained from getting too close because of the obligations that shaped his life. He had not felt it right to commit himself to Shichiroji when he could not give him all that Kambei felt he deserved.

But he realized now that Shichiroji simply wanted to share this life with him and understood that Kambei’s life would always belong to others. It had simply taken Kambei longer to accept that gift.

However, even though his mind was now in line with his heart, it looked as if he was going to have to wait to open this gift until another time. He picked up a blanket from the couch and stepped over to the chair Shichiroji sat in. Glancing at the harp, trying to decide the best way to move it, Kambei was surprised to see the carving that adorned the harp had changed. The Salmon of Knowledge that had always been there still leaped into the air, but now a long serpentine dragon was curled around it— both protecting and supporting the Salmon in its flight. He had no doubt the dragon was meant to be him and shook his head in bemusement.

“I’m glad you approve,” Kambei said to the harp.

The harp sang a chord, the notes bright and happy. The sound snapped Shichiroji awake and he looked up at Kambei in sleepy surprise a moment before scowling down at the harp. “You could have woken me sooner, you know,” he grumbled.

The harp gave a sharp, unapologetic twang in response.

Shichiroji blew out an exasperated breath as he pushed himself out of the chair, dislodging the bow from his head. “Well, if you’re going to be that way…” he said as he carried the harp over to the corner and carefully placed it into its carrying case.

Tossing the blanket back on the couch, Kambei picked up the bow and held it up questioningly as Shichiroji turned around. The bard grinned, grabbed the bow and put it back on top of his head before holding his arms out wide.

“Hope you like your present cause this is all you’re getting from me this year,” Shichiroji announced.

Kambei stepped forward, chuckling at the amusement on Shichiroji’s face as he wrapping his arms around Shichiroji’s lean body. “Then I suppose I will just have to take my time opening it,” he responded as he pulled the bard close, his breath mingling with Shichiroji’s as he brushed their lips together.

“Oh, I don‘t see that happening,” Shichiroji managed to say before Kambei could shut him up with a kiss. Kambei quickly discovered the little nap the younger man had gotten had energized him, and he soon found himself unwrapped before he had even had a chance to get half the clothes on Shichiroji off.

Not that he was going to waste time complain about that situation since he had gotten all the clothes he needed to out of the way.

He pulled Shichiroji down to the floor, tangling his fingers in long blond hair as Shichiroji settled on top of him. For a while they hungrily explored one another, kisses rough and bruising and needy, hands running up and down each other, tracing random patterns that had meaning only to the one making them.

Shichiroji pushed himself upright, straddling Kambei’s legs, his artificial hand a cool counterpoint to the warmth of his other one, and Kambei could not hold back the moan that slipped out as the bard ran those hands down the length of his body down to his hips. He looked up at Shichiroji, at the blond hair that had fallen forward to cover the bard’s face and yet failed to hide the parted lips and the desire in the blue eyes as he gazed down at Kambei’s body. Kambei reached up with one hand to brush the hair aside, but Shichiroji turned his head, catching a finger with his mouth, gently sucking on it as Kambei pulled it out.

When the finger was free, Shichiroji looked him straight in the eye and Kambei gripped him tightly as he rolled over and pinned the bard beneath him.

Shichiroji wrapped his legs around Kambei, bringing their bodies together; and Kambei rocked his hips, rubbing their stiff cocks together, eliciting groans of desire from them both. Shichiroji’s body arched when Kambei‘s fingers momentarily closed around his waist, but when Kambei shifted position, his cock brushing against Shichiroji’s tight opening, the bard suddenly squirmed beneath him.

“Jar!” he gasped.

“What?” Kambei asked, startled.

“Jar! There!” Shichiroji panted, pointing randomly with one hand as the other one gripped Kambei‘s hair tightly as if trying to pull him closer.

Too aroused to make any sense of Shichiroji‘s words, Kambei could only stare at the bard in confusion until the man, with a grunt of annoyance, shoved him aside to reach up and slap a hand on a small jar on the end table. As Kambei sat up he heard a muffled but amused jingle from the harp and Shichiroji snapped, “You be quiet!” as he shoved the jar at Kambei.

“Okay, now you’re ready.”

Kambei stared at the jar now in his hand and then at Shichiroji a moment before bursting out laughing, only to have Shichiroji snap at him, “Oh, you are not going to stop now!”

Continuing to laugh, Kambei pulled Shichiroji in his lap, burying his face into the bard’s blond hair. He felt Shichiroji begin to squirm for a different reason and Kambei quickly stilled him with several passionate kisses while he opened the jar and dipped his fingers into the cool substance within.

Setting the jar aside he pushed Shichiroji back down onto the floor, quickly prepping both of them with the oil. Almost immediately Kambei was smothering lustful moans from Shichiroji, and himself, as he eased his cock into the tight warmth beneath him.

It was not long before they each reached their own breathless climax, and as their breathing slowly evened out and their bodies slowly relaxed they lay comfortable and quiet on the floor listening to the soft crackle of the fire. Eventually Kambei found the strength to move and snagged the blanket he had held earlier to cover them with.

Shichiroji shifted to a more comfortable position in Kambei’s arms and said sleepily, “The bed would be softer, you know.”

“The bed is upstairs,” Kambei pointed out.

“Ah, true,” Shichiroji murmured, laughing softly. “I just thought I should offer, being the good host that I am.”

“Hm. I thank you for your thoughtfulness but I’m quite comfortable here, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

And as he began to drift into sleep, Kambei could not help but smile when he heard Shichiroji begin to sing,

_“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…”_

  


**Author's Note:**

> This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. No monetary gain has been made with this work and was written for entertainment purposes only. Spelling of character names based on the booklets in the US DVD's and wikipedia.  
> The character Sedith belongs to Laura "Zel" Carboni and was borrowed with her permission.  
> The character of Nuada in this fic belongs to me.  
> The Scottish Gaelic carol Shichiroji sings is based on the poem "Silent Night" written in 1816 by Joseph Mohr  
> The Huron Carol sung by Kambei was originally written in the early 1600 by the Jesuit Fr. Jean de Brebeuf.  
> The idea for the revised version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" came from the Samurai 7 fanfic "Kougakyo Yochien Host Club Christmas (Part Two)" by roryheadmav.
> 
> First posted on y!gallery on December 23, 2006.


End file.
